February Fictionista WitFit Challenge
by borntodanceninefour
Summary: Fictionista WitFit daily word prompt challenge. One month, one prompt, one day to write a story without overthinking or editing. Ratings will be K-M.
1. Lackadaisical

**Penname: **born2dance94

**Derivative Twilight Fanfic**

**Rating:** T

**Disclaimer:** All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.

**Prompt: **Lackadaisical

She misses the lazy, languid days of summer. What she remembers most is the smell of his leather jacket as they lay on the old, ratty blanket, gazing up at the stars and their brilliant illumination.

It was brown, his jacket, but it had turned black with the rain that summer. It smelt like stale cigarette smoke and grease and too much of his father's cologne. It was her favorite scent in the entire world.

As they lay that night staring up at the glowing orbs in the midnight sky, she would rest her head on his chest, and his leather-clad arm would wind around her slight form, holding onto her like nothing in the world could pull them apart.

Because she was his Bella, and he was her Edward. They simply were— and were always meant to be— forever.


	2. City Setting

**Penname: **born2dance94

**Derivative Twilight fanfic**  
**Rating: **T

**Disclaimer:** All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.

**Prompt:** Imagine being in this setting: what happens? (**City setting) **Describe the type of day your characters have. Write about it in third-person narrative.

Her alarm doesn't go off, and she knows immediately that today will be a shitty day.

She burns her coffee, and then burns her hands when she spills some on herself. Her shirt doesn't escape unscathed however; she has to go change her clothing as well.

She leaves her apartment late because, with everything going wrong, it would have been a miracle to have left on time.

She misses the first fifteen of her meeting, but doesn't miss the glare her boss shoots at her as she slides into her seat late. She realizes she'll have to deal with him later.

Her boss manages to get the potential clients to sign a deal, but still stares daggers at her as everyone walks out of the conference room.

As she's busy going through the stacks upon stacks of paperwork her assistant dropped on her desk this morning, her boss walks into her office. It's quite clear he's un happy; she'd venture to say he's downright furious.

"Bella. My office. Now," he snaps at her before turning on his heels and stomping away down the hall.

She hesitates for just a few seconds, terribly afraid that she's about to be fired, but eventually follows his lead and goes to his office.

He's leaning back in his leather wingback chair when she enters, hands folded behind his head. It's the kind of pose she's only seen villain attempt in the movies, and her fear spikes.

"Bella," he growls. "You almost cost us the deal this morning. That was a multimillion dollar contract. You're lucky they agreed to sign, or you'd have been out of here the second the meeting was over. Tardiness is not acceptable here. Do I make myself clear?"

Her face turns beet red and she has trouble looking him in the eye. "I'm so sorry. My alarm didn't go off and I had some trouble with my coffee maker…." She trails off as she noticed the apathetic stare her boss was giving her. She sighs. "And I know those still aren't excuses. Again, I'm really sorry. I swear it'll never happen again, Mr. Cullen—"

He cuts her off with a heavy sigh. "Bella, what have I said about you calling me that? Unless we're in front of other employees, please just call me by my first name."

"Okay. Sorry, Edward."

"It's okay," he responds, getting up from his desk to walk over to her. "I think I know the perfect way for you to make it up to me."

Edward walks the few feet to the door, locking it and jiggling the handle to make sure it won't open. This is Bella's favorite part— the thrill, the anticipation… the idea that at any moment, someone in the building across the street could look through their windows and catch them in the act.

"Now," he whispers, walking over to her, looking for all the world like a lion stalking its prey. He moves her hair over one shoulder and leans in against the other side of her neck, trailing the tip of his nose along the arch below her jaw. "Shall we pick up where we left off last night?"

This… thing— whatever it is— has been going on for a few months now, and as far as they know, everyone else at the company is none the wiser. They like it that way, and plan to keep it like that.

They haven't really put a definition to what they are; something between fuck-buddies and casual daters. They both want more, but neither has admitted it yet to the other.

But for now, they both take what they can get. Because something is better than nothing.


	3. Beauty is in the Eye of the Beholder

**Penname: **born2dance94

**Derivative Twilight fanfic**

**Rating:** K

**Disclaimer**: All copyrights, trademarked items, or recognizable characters, plots, etc. mentioned herein belong to their respective owners. No copying or reproduction of this work is permitted without their express written authorization.

**Prompt: **"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder," she laughed.

When Nessie was three, she already looked like a ten year-old girl. One particular Saturday, while the rest of the family was out hunting, Edward and Bella sat at home with their daughter.

Suddenly, Renesmee bounded up off the floor and launched herself into her mother's lap.

"Mama?" she asked, looking up at her with the face Jacob jokingly (but lovingly) referred to as her "Puppy Dog Face." She batted her eyelashes and brought her bottom lip out into a deep pout. Bella prepared herself for whatever she could possible want to ask with an expression like that. Edward just chuckled, obviously having already heard in her head what she wanted.

She lifted her tiny palm to Bella's cheek and shut her eyes, sending her a message in her own special way. Her mother saw images of Edward, herself, and her daughter around the cottage, going through boxes and bins in all of the closets. _Can we explore today, Mama?_

Frankly, Bella was relieved. That face usually meant Nessie was bringing out the big guns, and she usually had a tough time saying no to her— sometimes absurd— requests. This one, however, sounded like an excellent idea.

"Sure, Baby," Bella responded, standing up with her in her arms.

"Where do you want to explore first, Nessie?" Edward asked, leaning over to kiss both of his girls on their foreheads.

She touched both of their faces, projecting pictures of the closet in her parents' bedroom.

Bella led the way into the master bedroom, with Edward following behind closely. She walked over to the huge walk-in closet Alice had installed when the cottage was redecorated as their wedding gift, and went over to the shelves in the far back corner. She lifted Renesmee until she was eye level with the topmost shelf and told her to pick any box she liked.

Nessie pulled down a dark wooden box. It had intricate designs carved into the top. Edward recognized it immediately for what it was, but Bella was unaware of what lay inside.

The three of them sat on the floor in the middle of the closet, and Nessie climbed into Edward's lap. Bella opened the box and reached in, pulling out a handful of items.

The first was a small silver picture frame containing a black and white photo of Edward and Bella dancing at their wedding. The second object was a red boutonniere, and Bella noticed that it was from their night at prom.

The third object was a small plastic bottle cap. Immediately, Bella knew it for what it was.

"Mama, what's this?" Nessie asked, holding the little yellow cap between her small fingers. "It looks like an old bottle cap. Why would you keep a piece of trash from a plastic bottle in a box full of memories?"

Bella knew the story of that lemonade cap; the one Edward had kept as a souvenir from their first lunch together. She was constantly asking him to recount the tale, and he always obliged. To her, that cap was the _furthest _thing from trash.

"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder," she laughed.

One day, they'd share the tale of how they'd met and fallen in love, and all of the events that had happened as a result, with their daughter. Today, however, they had an entire cottage left to explore.


End file.
